


The Dream Eater

by DecemberBanana



Category: Vocaloid
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dreams and Nightmares, F/M, Happy Birthday Len, Mildly Dubious Consent, Monochrome Dream Eater, Romance, Supernatural - Freeform, Surreal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 16:13:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9080011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DecemberBanana/pseuds/DecemberBanana
Summary: ‘Here you go, Miss,’ he said, smiling pleasantly as he handed her the drink. ‘One Cloud 99 – lemon.’
When Miku was young, she had nightmares, and dreams of a boy who appeared through her window to make those nightmares go away. As she grew older, those strange dreams faded into nothing but indistinct memory - but were they really just dreams?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday Len, and sorry Rin for not including you in this fic! xP Thing is, this was based on two songs ("Monochrome Dream Eater" and "Sleeping Princess") and she wasn't the heroine in either, so.

_ _

 

* * *

 

_Tapir? That’s a very strange name._

_Just call my name if you need me again; I’ll come to you anytime._

…

‘Tapir,’ she called in a whisper, burying her face in her pillow so Mommy and Daddy wouldn’t hear her. ‘Tapir!’

Then she waited, with bated breath.

At first, nothing answered her call. It was a bright night; the big, round moon was hanging in the black sky, like a pearl nestled in a bed of velvet. Maybe he wasn’t going to come after all, she thought. Maybe he wasn’t real.

She rolled on her back to face the plastered ceiling, closing her eyes, a little disappointed.

In the garden outside, the rose bushes and vines were in a deep slumber, the six-legged crawlers burrowed in their dens. Not even the wind stirred; everything was perfectly still.

Presently, shadowy footprints treaded on the grass in the empty moonlit garden, crushing the frost outside her window. From out of nowhere it seemed, a pair of polished black boots materialised, coming to a stop beneath the white-painted windowsill.

In his hand, a silver cane.

‘You called for me, Mistress?’

When she opened her eyes, in surprise – her window was open, letting the cool night air creep into her snug bed.

And there he sat on her windowsill: the boy in the silk porkpie hat, twinkling at her.

‘Tapir!’ she ran to the windowsill in her nightgown, eyes shining. ‘I thought you weren’t going to come at all.’

He tipped his hat, his pale flaxen hair glimmering silver-white in the moonlight as he swept her a neat bow. ‘Good evening, Mistress.’

She curtsied, remembering her manners on time, blushing coyly.

He was a strange creature, with tapering ears and gloves on his hands. He wore a neat white shirt, a custard-orange waistcoat and a matching bowtie, and on top of them a sleek, sweeping black tailcoat. He didn’t look any older than her; she’d sometimes wondered if he was a genie, but he’d laughed and told her no, he wasn’t. He spoke like a worldly-wise gentleman, rather oddly for his boyish appearance.

Tapir sat on the windowsill once more, placing his hat on his knees, leaning gracefully against the window frame as he turned to her with a charming grin. ‘So what can I do for you, Mistress?’

‘I’m lonely,’ she complained. ‘Mommy and Daddy are busy. They’re always busy.’

He regarded her thoughtfully, his black eyes glowing. They were a solid, pitch black under his contrasting pale lashes. They reminded her of the town fortune teller’s obsidian marbles, deep and bright and mysterious. ‘You’re afraid of being alone?’

‘…Uh huh,’ she nodded truthfully. ‘But Mommy says I’m old enough now but… I still have nightmares…’

‘That’s awful,’ he smiled. ‘Would you like me to take them away for you again?’

‘Yes, please.’

His smile widened. ‘My pleasure.’

Leaning down from the windowsill, he kissed her forehead. As his lips touched her, slightly, white rose petals fluttered from her skin; soft, delicate things, floating down into the palm of his hand where they rested as light as cotton candy. Plucking one between his thumb and forefinger, Tapir slipped it into his mouth.

‘Mmmm.’ He closed his eyes complacently.

She watched him curiously. ‘What do nightmares taste like, Tapir?’

‘Like the person who dreamt them,’ he said.

‘Aren’t they bitter?’

‘Not everything sweet is sugar and candy,’ he replied cryptically.

‘There’s chocolate, too… and honey, and strawberries…’ She rubbed her eyes, smiling drowsily. ‘Will you stay here until I fall asleep, Tapir?’

He graciously inclined his head. ‘Of course.’

Putting his hat on his head once more, Tapir stood up. He raised the curved handle of his silver cane, and struck its base straight into the wooden floor, with a clear, echoing _rap_. Coiling plumes of purple mist snaked in from the four corners of the room, streaked with dusky gold and milk-white, swirling like the surface of a lake – slowly they filled up her vision, enveloping her dove-white nightdress; and she felt her eyelids closing, lulling the midnight world away into a peaceful, dark slumber.

‘Sweet dreams, young Mistress…’

 

* * *

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This fic... is going to take a loooong time to update, I assure you. xD


End file.
